


Five Star Tips For Trips

by crankypanda



Category: Big Bang (Band), History (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 15:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10415415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankypanda/pseuds/crankypanda
Summary: In which Jiyong gets mistaken for an Uber driver, and it all goes downhill from there.





	1. Today, 3:15 PM

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to experiment with structure a bit, so chapters will alternate between **today** and **yesterday.** Hope it's not too confusing!

"You are so stupid," Seungri declared. In front of him, the espresso machine drizzled a few final drops of steaming coffee into a waiting paper cup.

Jiyong looked up from the microwave, which was currently heating a slice of apple pie, to glare at him.

"Hyung," Seungri added as he carefully poured hot water into the cup. "You are so stupid, _hyung."_

Jiyong turned back to the microwave, arms crossed, jaw clenched. "I am not stupid. I'm being a _decent human being."_

"You're a _poor_ human being, is what you are," Seungri said, snapping a lid onto the cup. "You had the answer to all your prayers literally staring you in the face yesterday. But _no,_ you chose to be _decent,_ and now you need a miracle to make rent. And what about tuition, huh? You got a plan for that?"

The microwave beeped. Jiyong yanked it open with a little more force than was probably necessary. "I'll figure something out."

He set the plate on an empty tray, alongside a knife and fork laid out on a folded napkin. He slid the tray over to Seungri, who added the cup, now wrapped in a Dolce Vita cardboard sleeve, and carried everything to the pickup counter.

"Café Americano and apple pie for Jungwoo!" he called out.

"It sucks that you don't actually have a car," Seungri said, once Jungwoo had picked up his order and returned to his table. There was nothing left to do but wait for the next customer, who'd probably be awhile; they were in that sleepy interval between the lunch rush and after-hours crowd. "Then you could be an Uber driver for real."


	2. Yesterday, 7:31 AM

"So how'd it go?" Youngbae asked. 

Jiyong dropped his backpack by his feet and leaned against the brick wall, staring up at the sunny sky. "Great," he said. "They cut me off after five seconds, which is a big improvement from the usual three."

Youngbae made a sympathetic noise. 

"Once, just _once,_ I wish they'd let me get to the fucking chorus before thanking me for my time," Jiyong said bitterly. "The fucking elevator ride was longer than the actual audition."

"It'll happen, man," Youngbae reassured him. "All in God's perfect time."

Jiyong scuffed the toe of his shoe into the dirt. He sometimes wished he had Youngbae's faith; it was more comforting to believe that hardships were all part of some unknown grand plan, that life wasn't just inherently shitty. "Yeah, you're right."

"You just have to keep going at it," Youngbae said. "You're, like, the most talented singer-songwriter I know. Someday, someone is going to recognize that, and reward you for it."

"Youngbae, I'm the _only_ singer-songwriter you know," Jiyong said dryly. "Unless Dean started working out at your gym and you just forgot to mention it."

"I have no idea who that is," Youngbae said, because he listened almost exclusively to American hip-hop and R&B from the early 2000s, despite Jiyong's best efforts to expand his musical horizons. "But my point still stands. It's only a matter of time before G-Dragon hits daebak with a song so good, even our grandchildren will be listening to it."

Jiyong smiled despite himself. "That's a pretty bold prediction."

"I believe in you," Youngbae said earnestly, which actually made Jiyong choke up a little.

"Thanks for the pep talk," he said gruffly. "And thanks for letting me use your car. I would never have made it if I took the bus."

"Don't thank me, thank our local government for thinking it was a good idea to shut down three subway lines at the same time," Youngbae said. "Anyway, I have to go, I have to finish this report. We're still on for dinner tomorrow, yeah?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Jiyong promised.


	3. Today, 4:09 PM

"Okay, so according to my calculations, you can _totally_ make rent if you work double shifts five days a week for the next three weeks," Seungri announced. "Well, as long as you don't use any electricity or hot water."

"It's _February,"_ Jiyong protested as he placed a tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls inside the display case.

"Six days a week, then," Seungri amended.

Jiyong slid the door shut and straightened up. Seungri wordlessly handed him a napkin filled with scribbles. He was leaning against the counter, his back turned to the customers. As his sunbae, Jiyong should have reprimanded him, but the only customers were Jungwoo, who was already packing up, and old Mr. Park, one of their regulars, who was busy reading the newspaper at his customary table by the window.

Jiyong quickly scanned the rows of figures before handing the napkin back to Seungri. "No double shifts," he said. "I have classes everyday this semester."

"Hyung, just drop out already," Seungri said. "You're always skipping class to go to auditions, you're probably going to flunk anyway."

"Is that why you didn't include tuition in your computations?" Jiyong asked wryly.

"Yes, because I consider it an unnecessary expense," Seungri said sagely. 

"Do you consider food an unnecessary expense too?" Jiyong asked. "Because I didn't see it there either."

"You work at a _coffee shop,_ hyung," Seungri said, exasperated. "Just bring home some of the pastries we haven't sold by the end of the day."

"I thought we were supposed to donate all our unsold food to those in need."

"No offense, hyung, but you're kind of in need right now," Seungri said. 

The bell above the door tinkled. They both turned, but it was only Jungwoo making his exit.

Jiyong sighed. "Thanks for the suggestions. I guess I'll just take a leave of absence, and pick up extra shifts whenever I can." He picked up a washcloth and headed over to Jungwoo's vacated table.

Seungri trailed behind him, garbage bag in hand. "I gotta say, hyung, I don't really get why you're busting your ass to rent a crappy studio in a bad neighborhood when you could be staying in your family's perfectly nice house, in the same city, for _free."_

Jiyong dumped Jungwoo's empty paper cup and crumpled napkin into the garbage bag. "I'm not moving back," he said firmly. "I'm sure they'd love to see me come crawling back with my tail between my legs, but I won't. It's a matter of principle."

"Principles won't pay the bills," Seungri pointed out. "If you move back home, the only thing you'd have to worry about is tuition. And I'm sure if you ask nicely, they'll take care of that, too."

"Sure, as long as I promise to stop doing music, switch to a business major, and swear on all my ancestors that I like girls." Jiyong picked up the plate and scraped crumbs into the garbage bag. "No thanks."

Jiyong stopped by Mr. Park's table to refill his brewed coffee while Seungri took out the trash. By the time Mr. Park had finished telling the story of his granddaughter's ballet recital, Seungri was back behind the counter, crouched by the wall socket where they kept their phones plugged in.

"You have five missed calls from Youngbae-hyung," he said. "Something up?"


	4. Yesterday, 7:46 AM

Jiyong had parked a few blocks away from the agency, behind a Lotteria that he'd chosen specifically because it had free parking, and staff that weren't too concerned about making sure only paying customers used it.

He clambered into Youngbae's ancient Hyundai, tossed his backpack onto the passenger seat, and slumped over the steering wheel, intent on taking a power nap before his 9 AM class.

He jolted awake to pounding coming from somewhere to his left. He turned, bleary-eyed, toward the sound.

A guy was knocking on his window. 

"Hey," he said, voice muffled by the glass. "Open up."

Jiyong stared at him. The guy stared back, looking expectant. He was very attractive, and, in a perfectly tailored black suit, a bit overdressed for a carjacking.

Cautiously, Jiyong rolled the window down. 

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Fucking _finally,"_ the guy said. "You took so long, I thought you'd canceled the trip."

Jiyong blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Whatever, you're here now and that's all that matters," the guy said. "Just get Seunghyun home before he passes out."

The guy stepped back, and it was only then that Jiyong realized there was another guy, even better-looking and better-dressed, standing behind him, swaying slightly. 

"He had a little too much to drink last night," the first guy explained, wrapping an arm around Seunghyun's shoulders to steady him. 

"Fucking Pétrus," Seunghyun muttered in a gravelly baritone, and promptly toppled over.

"And this morning," the guy added, bending down to help Seunghyun up. "So the sooner he's home, the better." 

"I think," Jiyong said slowly, watching them struggle upright, "there's been a mistake."

"I'd bring him myself, but I have to go to the office," the guy said. "Board meeting at nine. The chairman will kill me if I'm late." Before Jiyong could respond, he opened the rear door and pushed Seunghyun onto the backseat.

Jiyong whirled around. _"What the hell."_

"I set his place as the dropoff point," the guy said as he shoved Seunghyun's flailing legs inside. "Security at UN Village is pretty tight, but if you tell the guards at the gate that you're dropping Choi Seunghyun off, they'll let you in."

"I'm not - " Jiyong began, but he was cut off by the sound of a car honking. He turned and saw a sleek black limousine idling a few meters away.

"That's my cue," the guy said. He turned to Seunghyun. "Try not to puke, I don't want my rating to go down."

Seunghyun groaned as he shut the door.

"You don't understand," Jiyong said desperately. "This isn't - "

The car honked again, more insistently.

"I'm sorry, my phone died right after I booked the trip so I have no idea what your name is," the guy said, backing away. "But I promise to give you five stars as long as you get him home in one piece." 

And with that, he turned on his heel and sprinted towards the waiting limo.

Jiyong scrambled out of his seat. "Wait!"

"Five stars!" the guy yelled out the open rear window as the limo sped away.


End file.
